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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125027">The Lover's Diaries</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Visionsofdazzlingrooms/pseuds/Visionsofdazzlingrooms'>Visionsofdazzlingrooms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>blue bloods</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Love, Spanking, cameos by the fam as needed, lindanny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:41:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Visionsofdazzlingrooms/pseuds/Visionsofdazzlingrooms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Each chapter is a different look into Danny or Linda’s head. Some chapters are based off of episodes. Chapters with touchy subjects (like spanking) will be noted</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Danny Reagan/Linda Reagan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I walk into the house, expecting rowdy boys waiting for their dinner, running around and practicing their hockey, football, and soccer drills. What I find is a quiet house, the smell of slow cooked ribs delighting my senses. I see a note on the fridge, written in that sweet handwriting I have loved ever since I first saw it. It's a note from my wonderful wife. I check my text messages, smiling guiltily as I see two missed texts. I smile reading them.</p><p>The boys begged to go to Frank's. I agreed, it is Saturday, after all. All their homework's done. If you don't see me downstairs when you come home, I'll be in the tub or just getting out. But I'll probably still be in.</p><p>The next one read: you're welcome to join me. Love you</p><p>I smile again, pocketing the cell. The note read something similar, so I head upstairs. I walk into our room and to the en-suite; through the sheer curtain around the coveted claw-foot tub, I see my sexy Linda. I'm still amazed at how much beauty she possesses— physically and mentally. She went from an over-hormoned teenager who would cry because there was no macaroni, to an accomplished nurse turned mother. She always amazes me with the amount of strength she has.</p><p>I lean on the counter, out of her sight, just watching her. She bends over, dipping the ends of her honey-blonde hair into the steaming water. She leans forward, letting the water run over the back of her head. She tosses her wet hair back, and sits on her knees.</p><p>I cross my arms as she squirts the shampoo-conditioner mix shit into her palms. She runs the soap through her hair, massaging her scalp, tipping her head back. My smile grows as she stacks her locks atop her head, soap and all. Pieces of hair in the back fall to her neck, and she pats them up again; I can tell she's smiling as her hair stays put on her head. I'm torn between ogling her perfect body through the curtain, and sitting behind her, leaving marks on her silky shoulders. I decide on the latter, quickly stripping. Not wanting to scare her, I announce my presence. "Hey, babe. Dinner smells great."</p><p>"Hi." Linda pulls the curtain back and peeks her soapy head out, "you joining?"</p><p>"Of course." All too quickly I get into the steaming water. "Damn, Linda! How do you stand it being this hot?!"</p><p>"I like things hot," Linda shrugs her shoulders, tipping her head back.</p><p>I know where this is going. "Is that so?"</p><p>"Mmhmm," she sighs and relaxes to my touch as I wash her hair.</p><p>Once the soap is gone, I start massaging her shoulders, getting the knots out of them. Gradually, my hands get lower, and her soft moans become sensual. My thumbs knead her lower back, giving it attention until I kiss her shoulder. I suck on the skin, weaving my hands to her smooth stomach. To my surprise, she takes my hands and moves them lower, silently asking me to pleasure her. I bite down on her shoulder, my hands roaming her thighs. As her moans get louder, and my name starts reverberating on the walls, I know we're gonna work up one hell of an appetite for those ribs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Worry About Him</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As I brush my teeth that night, I can't help but worrying. This serial killer is.... really bad news, to say the least. And of all the detectives in all of the cities in all of the state, they send in my husband. I shake my head, telling myself Danny's the best, and he knows how to take care of himself. He's skilled in combat and has a tactical mind. Unfortunately, that mind is also impulsive and has a hero complex.</p><p>I spit out my toothpaste and rub my eyes; I'm tired, and my back is hurting.... ugh. I sound so old when I say that. I know that I just need sleep. Sleep and Danny. I walk out of our room and head to my oldest's. It's late, and he should be asleep. Softly I open the door and pad in. I lean over and kiss his head, telling him to have good dreams. I linger a bit, just remembering the anxiety that came with trying to get pregnant. I stand and go to my youngest's room. I do the same thing, but his voice stops me from exiting.</p><p>"Mom?"</p><p>"What is it, honey?" I walk back in and sit on his bed. He was our surprise baby; a baby that couldn't have waited for the next year to be conceived.</p><p>"What's, uh.... this serial killer, he's bad news, huh?"</p><p>I smile sympathetically; everyone is scared for my husband. The serial killer, Thomas Wilder, he beat Danny. He beat Danny good. Danny still has the sling, the bruised eye, and cuts on his forehead. "Yeah. He is."</p><p>"But Dad will catch him, right?"</p><p>"Yeah.... Sean, listen. Your dad's going to catch this guy, like he always does. He may get a little hurt in the process, but he'll always come home."<br/>"How do you know?"</p><p>I see him watching as I play with my wedding rings. I look at the bands- the wedding band, the engagement ring, and the promise ring. "Cause he promised me he would." I pat his knee, "Dad will be okay. Try to sleep, hm?"</p><p>Sean nods, and I can tell he isn't satisfied, but is willing to accept it. "Night, Mom."</p><p>"Good night. I love you." I kiss his forehead.</p><p>"Love you too."</p><p>I quietly exit his room and walk to mine. I get under the covers, and toss and turn till I hear the slamming of a car door. Quickly, I pretend I'm asleep. After about twenty minutes, I start to worry. I want to see where my husband is; but as soon as I shift to investigate, I hear his footsteps coming. Again, I pretend to sleep.</p><p>I hear him sigh, a long, weary sigh. He sits on the bed with groans and grunts; I know his ribs are cracked, and I know that's gotta hurt. He's too tired to shower, as he gets in bed right after he undresses. With more grunts, he turns to his side. I smell his breath, and it smells like coffee and fast food. I hope he talks to me. At night, when he thinks I'm sleeping, he usually pours out his heart. I don't know if he knows how I shift to lay my head on his heart, or how I hug him when he needs it. Maybe he notices, maybe he doesn't.</p><p>Another sigh and my hand's on his heart. He takes it in his, and kisses the fingertips. He moves to the joints, down the digits, and to the knuckles. He bites down on my ring finger knuckle, and I bite back a moan. His lips trailed to the back of my hand, leaving no inch untouched. He then moves to my palm, lightly biting it as well. He doesn't leave hickeys, he just gives me that little shot of pain. I can't help the moan as I shift towards him. I want to lay on him, make him see stars, knock the breath out of him with my kisses and touches.</p><p>"Didn't mean to wake you." Danny shifts closer.</p><p>"You didn't. I was...." I sigh, "awake" as I roll to my back, gently pushed my him.</p><p>He moves over me, his arms bracket on either side of my head. He kisses me slowly, but oh-so-passionately; he knows I'm tired, he can hear it in my voice. But he still kisses me; he rests his forehead on mine, and tells me his fears, his worries.</p><p>It's late, and I'm going to hate myself for it, but I kiss him hungrily. He needs to feel how much I love him; how much of a hero he is in my eyes; how he's the only man for me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. It Needs To Be Charged</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sexy times</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I'm worried about her. I always worry about her, she's my wife. But today.... today is different. I can't get a hold of her, and there's a bomb threat near the zoo she's at with the kids. All day, she's on my mind. I call her, I text her, I have the zoo page her.... I even have Erin, Jamie, Dad, and Grandpa try to get a hold of her. </p><p>It's a race against time as the team tries to get Mary Jo to give me the denotar to the bomb. I talk to her, she finally agrees. I sigh in relief when the whole ordeal is over. My wife, my kids... they're safe from being blown up. But my heart won't stop pounding until I see my sons and laugh with them. It won't stop until I hug my wife, until I kiss her and have her writhing beneath me. I'm going to reprimand her; then I'm going to punish her. </p><p>**********</p><p>"Hey, everyone!" Her sweet voice calls out. </p><p>"In here!"</p><p>Quickly, I put my beer down and beeline for her. I hug her tightly, swaying a little. I kiss her ear, her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. I thank God over and over again for keeping my family safe. </p><p>"Seriously.... what's going on?" Linda looks at the family, and I reluctantly release her. She catches my chin, stares into my eyes. "Everything okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, everything's great." And that's the truth. She, Jack, and Sean are okay, and all is right. </p><p>**********</p><p>"Let me have it." Linda says as we stand in our bedroom. </p><p>I look to her, stopping my mission to rid of my tie. </p><p>"I know you're mad. I listened to the messages, I saw the texts.... I'm so sorry. I had no idea what was happening. I know it needs to be charged every night, and I'll do it, I will. Just... just yell. Get it over with."</p><p>I study her, her eyes cast to the floor. She looks so sexy in that pink dress and dark blue sweater. Too bad they have to come off. I walk over to her, and put my hand on her shoulder. Tilting my head, and bending my knees just a bit, I crush her lips with mine. I can tell she's surprised; I can practically see her brows go up, her electric eyes going wide. When she puts her arms around my neck, I know she's over the surprise. Her tongue tries to fight mine, and I immediately start. </p><p>She looks at me, not realizing what I'm going to do. She frowns, and starts to walk to the wardrobe, probably thinking she wouldn't get any. </p><p>I grab her arm, slamming her against me. I hold her face in my hands, "you're gonna do exactly what I say. Hands to yourself, no talking except when I talk to you. And you're gonna answer 'yes, Danny'. No sounds are gonna come from you. Understand?"</p><p>She nods, "yes, Danny." She knows this game. She's good at this game. She locks her hands behind her back, her eyes flutter close. </p><p>Between hungry kisses, I command her to unlock her hands. She complies, and I slide her sweater off her arms. It flutters to the floor, and I see some of those cute freckles on her shoulders. She knows I love those freckles, that I like to nip them. I know that she loves being bitten, that she loves me marking her as mine. </p><p>I smooth my hands over her sides, and her face scrunches, holding back a moan. I'm intentionally mean to her, grabbing and pinching until she gets restless. </p><p>I slowly lower the zipper to her dress, but don't push it down her beautiful body. Again, my goal is for her to suffer. </p><p>Linda's lip is between her teeth, her eyes closed as I knead her breasts and ass. I suck her neck and bite her shoulder. I know her toes are curling in her wedges. It's a few minutes before her face relaxes as I push her dress down. </p><p>I know how much she wants to moan. It takes about another twenty minutes for her to be in all her naked glory. I leave biting kiss after biting kiss on her collarbone and breasts. I tweak her nipple as my other hand explores her curves.<br/>I feel her tense, so I decide to give a little leeway. "Take off my clothes."</p><p>"Yes, Danny." She looks relieved as she starts unbuttoning the small buttons. </p><p>I stop her movements, "but no touching."</p><p>“Yes, Danny." She successfully undresses me, and now we're both standing naked in the middle of our room. I want to ravish her, and by the look in her eyes, she wants to do the same. </p><p>"Get on the bed."</p><p>"Yes, Danny." Linda sexily crawls onto the bed, and turns to her back. She lets her legs fall open, and I see her smirk. She may not be able to use hands or do anything, but she knows she can drive me nuts with looks and movements.</p><p>I hover over her, and take my time teasing her. She starts squirming a little, and she drips with pre-cum. I know she's going to hate me for this, and I know she'll give me my own medicine, but I tell her anyways. "Don't cum till I tell you."</p><p>She releases some more, and she barely agrees, "yes..... Da- Danny."</p><p>When I finally give her what she wants, I let her suffer for about five minutes. "Okay, baby," I nibble her ear. "Do it. Do it now, do it loud."</p><p>Linda lets herself go, grabbing my head and crushing her lips on mine. She knows how loud she can get, and she knows her screams would wake and scare the kids.  Her high comes hard, and she shakes violently. I quickly follow, and she milks me for all I'm worth. I roll us over, still conjoined. I kiss her sweaty nose, "you need to charge your phone."</p><p>"It's charging," Linda answers sleepily. I know she won't get her revenge tonight, but she will. She always does.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What? I said it would be sexy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Don’t Do It Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So glad I married a hero," I grumble sarcastically as I grab the bread dish. I need to get out of there, I need to breathe. I give one menacing glare at my idiotic husband before walking into the kitchen. I can't believe he did that! How could he? How stupid is he?!</p><p>"Hey, what's going on?"</p><p>Danny's hand is on my shoulder, and I violently shrug it off. I move to the other side of the island, simultaneously dropping a roll. </p><p>"What's the problem, Linda?"</p><p>"I'm so glad that Billy Flood's daughter's gonna be okay, but what about our kids, Danny?"</p><p>"What about our kids, Linda? Our kids are fine. What are you talking about?"</p><p>"Really? Really? How are our kids gonna be?"</p><p>"What are you talking about?" He talks over me.</p><p>"What's gonna happen to our kids the next time you swagger into one of those buildings, and then you don't come out? What about our kids then, huh, Danny?" I punch him squarely in the shoulder. "What about me? Son of a bitch." I curse him as I turn my attention away. My anger is steadily turning into the realization of the fear that I could've lost him.</p><p>"Linda, I knew the guy, I knew what he was doing in the bank, and I knew he wasn't gonna shoot me."</p><p>"You don't know that. You don't know any such thing! That is macho crap!" I throw bread into the dish, banging the tongs against the porcelain. "John Wayne. John Wayne never faced a real gun in his life. John Wayne..." I let a sob escape my lips. "I was watching it on TV, Danny. I saw you. It scared the crap out of me." I finally look at him, and the tears start to come. </p><p>"Hey. Hey..." he tries soothingly. </p><p>I breathe heavily, trying not to cry. I don't want to cry, I don't want to give him that satisfaction. </p><p>"Come on." He pulls me to his front, my back against his chest. He kisses my ear and cheek, while he apologizes. His arms are crossed over my chest, and I'm desperately holding onto him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Look, I love you. I love you and those boys more than anything on this Earth, and I promise you I won't let anything happen. You know, the first and last thing I think about every day before I do anything is to get home safe to you. I'm sorry."</p><p>I sigh once again, the tears coming faster and harder. </p><p>"Linda, it's okay-"</p><p>"It's not okay, Danny!" I yank myself from his comforting hug. "The fact still remains that- that you went in there with- with no..... no gun, and- and he..... he could've.... you could've.... I could've...." a sob racks my body as I throw my hands over my face. I don't care that I'm standing in the middle of the kitchen, family in the next room, sobbing like I haven't done in years. I feel his strong arms wrap around me, and he lowers me to the floor. He knows I feel more comfortable crying in a confined space, and that I like to curl up. He kisses my head, rubs my back. </p><p>"I'm right here, baby. You're okay, it's okay. Just let it out."</p><p>My tears soak through his shirt but he doesn't care. I grip onto the light blue fabric, letting my emotions take over. I feel scared and gross and childish all at the same time. Danny's right next to me, I can feel him, hear him, smell him. I shouldn't be crying like this; I'm an adult, a nurse, and a mother to boot. </p><p>I always feel awful when I cry. I feel ugly and dirty and shameful. My face starts to itch with the drying tears; I ignore the itch, and almost claw at Danny's shirt. I lift my head and slam my lips onto his. I need to feel his love this way; I've felt it through his words and hugs, now I need it through his kiss. My hands grab for the back of his neck, and I lock my fingers there. </p><p>He responds to me, helping me shift to straddle him. He grips my waist while kissing me with force. His lips move to catch my tears, then back to my lips again. He seems to read my mind as he's relentless in his movements. His tongue dominates my mouth; with the combination of a stuffy nose and Danny's breath-taking kisses, I need air. I pull back and gasp for the oxygen, resting my hands on his shoulders. I close my eyes and press my forehead to his. "I love you. And I wan' keep lovin' you. So you have to stick around. You have to!" I beg, another sob escaping my lips. </p><p>"I will. I promise." He reaches up and wipes away the stray tear. He lightly whacks my butt, "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."</p><p>He helps me stand and hands me a box of tissues. He rubs my shoulder as I dry the tears and blow my nose. "I'm sorry-"</p><p>"No, you're not. You're right. I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."</p><p>"You just scared me, is all," I say quietly. "Don't do it again."</p><p>"Scare you?"</p><p>"Walk into a crime scene without any sort of weapon or protection."</p><p>Danny shook his head, "I thought you were going to say stop scaring you."</p><p>"You can't do that. Even if you were something simple like.... an accountant....  you'd still find a way to scare me." I crumple up a tissue and give him a hug. "I love you."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Need Linda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wind gets knocked out of me, and I crumple to the floor. I swallow hard, trying to get up. I hear laughter and foot steps leaving the room.... or are they coming? My vision is blurry, and I think I hear sirens- usually a sound I hate. But today, right now, it sounds heavenly. </p><p>I feel my chest constricting, and I'm not sure that it's because of the extra adrenaline, or that adrenaline wearing off. I feel like sleeping, and, painfully, I reach for Linda. I need her close, to breath her air, to right the dizziness I'm feeling. My hand hits concrete, and I groan, feeling something trickling down the side of my face. I close my eyes and smell blood, and, in a fit of desperation, I roughly rub it away. Which, hindsight, is a terribly, awfully, incredibly stupid idea. </p><p>My head throbs, and I hear muffled hysterical screams. It takes a minute to figure out that the screams are coming from the small closet. Ashley. She's still in there. I want to move, want to release her, want to kill Wilder. But how can I do all that if I can't see?</p><p>I'm so tired, and I know I shouldn't succumb to sleep, but my eyelids keeping getting heavier and heavier. Soon, I feel like floating, and I'm almost in a dreamless sleep. A peaceful, dreamless slumber that is sounding better and better by the minute. The slamming of doors catch my attention, and I feel myself jerk. I groan, and hear footsteps. Again, I can't tell if they're coming or going. </p><p>“Danny.”</p><p>Against my better judgement, I let my eyes close. </p><p>“Danny.”</p><p>I can't tell who's calling me. Is it Dad? Pops? Erin? Jamie? Linda? Oh, I hope it's Linda. I need to see her fantastic face; her luscious lips; her electric blue eyes. </p><p>“Danny!“</p><p>I manage to groan out, "Linda?" My voice is hoarse and dry, and I barely recognize it. </p><p>"Maria," Baez answers. "But I called her. She's waiting for you at the hospital."</p><p>I sense someone's hand, and I swat it away, my face crumpling in pain. I hear an unfamiliar voice, and can't tell if it's a friend or a foe. More footsteps, lots of static, and muffled voices fill my ears. Again, I try getting her attention. I know she's here, I saw her. "Linda."</p><p>"We're taking you to Linda, just hang in there, partner." The voice is filled with worry, yet an underlining tone of determination. </p><p>Weakly, I try to get those stunning irises to look into my duller ones. Barely opening my eyes, I call out, "Linda," once more before I succumb to the sleep.</p><p>************</p><p>I look around, everything is blurry. Warm air mingled with cold air surrounds my mouth and nose. The wailing sound is almost deafening as my head throbs. All I can think about is my wife, how scared and worried I must've made her. I know she's with me, in the claustrophobic-inducing vehicle. I know she's here; I saw her at the.... the... other... place. So she has to be with me. Lamely, I try to sit up, multiple hands gently push me down. </p><p>"Linda. I need... where is.... Lin..."</p><p>"You'll see Linda in a few seconds, just be a little patient," it's Baez's voice again. It's a little irritated. </p><p>"But. Linda..." I'm aware of the fact that that sounded, to quote her, "absolutely beyond the realm" of pathetic. But I don't care. I need my blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty. </p><p>I fall back into the sleep again, and all I can see is Linda. But she's in all white. Her smile is wide, her eyes filled with love and excitement. It takes a moment before her hands cup my face, and her lips are on mine. The kiss is absolutely heavenly. Her hands are soft on my face, and she smells like a summery cocktail. Her tongue explores my mouth; it's wet, it's warm, it's welcoming. I moan in pleasure, and she wraps her arms around my neck. Am I dreaming? Is she really kissing me? </p><p>Her lips move to my cheek, onto my neck. She licks, nips, and sucks, all while unbuttoning the shirt I'm wearing. Until now, I didn't notice how uncomfortable the fabric is. It's refreshing as she pushes it down my arms, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. She kisses my chest, raking her fingers along the muscles- the muscles I know she loves. Her fingers slowly go lower, her mouth follows their wake. She gets lower, and lower, and lower until-</p><p>"Oh my gosh! What happened?!" </p><p>A soft hand grasps mine, and I recognize the voice immediately. I'm a little disappointed that I was dreaming, but I'm still so happy to hear her voice. </p><p>Linda. Her name doesn't come out; it's lodged in my throat. Another voice answers, and there's movement in the room. </p><p>I'm lifted, and I feel softness beneath me. I reach for her hand again, but nothing happens. My eye lids flutter open and closed, and my brain is slow on the uptake of my surroundings. A hand and something else hovers over my face again, and I swat it away once again. "No." My voice is finally firm, "where's. Linda?"</p><p>It doesn't mean to be choppy or mean, but it comes across like that. All I want is my wife; don't  they understand that?</p><p>"I'm here, it's okay." She touches my cheek, and the bed dips. "Baby, you need oxygen." </p><p>I barely shake my head, not knowing if we were alone or not. "No-"</p><p>"Yes. Come on, Danny. Please?" Her hands and the same machine-thing hover over my face. </p><p>I swat them away again, feverishly convinced that we're not in a hospital. Or that Wilder almost beat me to death. </p><p>"No, baby, no. Listen to me." Her voice is firm, but I still hear the fear in her sweet voice. "Sweetheart, you need the oxygen, okay? You need it, baby." </p><p>I concede, and let her put the mask on my face. The air blows at me, and I want to tear it off. It's stinging to my busted lips, but I know I have to hold still. </p><p>"Any concussion? Broken bones? Internal injuries?"</p><p>"There's a pretty decent concussion. We think there are at least four broken ribs, but we need to do an X-ray. However, he just needs to-"</p><p>"Calm down first, yeah." </p><p>Her fingers are tracing my hair, softly and slowly, and it feels like heaven. </p><p>"As far as we know, there's no internal bleeding. There really shouldn't be. He's got a dislocated shoulder, but that's an easy fix."</p><p>"Right.... can I have a minute?"</p><p>"I don't-"</p><p>"Please? I know him. If there's doctors and nurses hovering around, he won't be calm enough for the X-ray. Just gimme a few minutes."</p><p>I assume the other person nods, and leaves with the nurses. I reach for her hand, and am glad to feel her fingers curl around mine. </p><p>She shifts so she's more comfortable, and I try to move so she can lie next to me. Her voice stops me. </p><p>"No, baby. Just stay still. You really need to calm down, honey. You've got a concussion. And you've had enough head injuries to know that calming down is essential."</p><p>I frown as a tear starts to slowly make its trek down her face. It falls off her cheek and onto the exposed skin of her chest. <br/>Painfully, I reach up and touch her cheek. A small sob escapes her lips and she presses a kiss to my palm.</p><p>"Oh, Danny," she whispers, and my heart breaks. </p><p>"I'm okay, I promise."</p><p>"But you have a concussion and broken ribs and dislocated shoulder."</p><p>"Maybe. But I have you, and that makes me okay."</p><p>She smiles slowly, the pink growing in her cheeks, down her neck, across her chest, and all the way down. "Stop."</p><p>"It's true." I smile back, thinking about that blush and that dream. </p><p>She sniffs and wipes a tear away, "I called the family. They're coming soon."</p><p>I nod, wishing I hadn't. My head's throbbing, and I'm still upset my vision's blurry. Despite her earlier protests, I scootch over just a bit, making room for her. I hold out my arm, inviting her to curl up next to me. </p><p>Linda smiles, tears still slowly streaming down her reddened cheeks. She shifts positions, laying her head on my shoulder. She puts her other hand on my heart, needing to feel it beat beneath my rib cage. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you more."</p><p>"I love you most." She moves her head and kisses my cheek.</p><p>Wilder is going down, that I'm sure of. He's going to rot in jail or rot in a hole in the ground.... which ever came first. I'm also sure of the fact that I love my wife with all my heart. I hold her tighter, run my fingers through her hair. The doctor will be coming soon, and she'll be whisked away from me. But right now, as her breathing evens out, I'm calm, peaceful. And for a brief moment in time, everything is perfect.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Settle Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Contains spanking, because it’s completely canonical and I’m a little bit twisted</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey, hey, no." Danny holds onto my upper arms, trying to get me to stop yelling and thrashing about. "Calm down."</p><p>"No!" I try to shake him off, inwardly knowing his grip could hold down crashing waves.</p><p>"Hey," he tries to get me to stop, but still to no avail. Finally, he brings his hand up and reaches behind me, placing an unnecessarily hard smack on my backside. "Sit," he forces me to sit on the couch. </p><p>I try to hide my surprise as I make my expression go from utter rage to boiling anger. I cross my arms, showcasing I'm having none of this shit. </p><p> "You're going to calm down-"</p><p>"I am not going to calm down!" I start to walk away when I feel Danny's hand grip my wrist. He lands another loud smack to my backside, this time the opposite cheek, and harder. I frown deeply, but sit back down on the sofa. I cross my arms once again, my face set in What that good-for- nothing brother-in-law calls my "bitch mode". </p><p>"You know I don't like spanking you outside of the bedroom, but it seems that that's the only way you'll listen." </p><p>"I am not gonna calm down." I nearly hiss, not caring what anybody says. "How dare he? How. Freakin' dare. He?! Accusing me of-of- of.... adultery!" I spit out the word as if it was poison being forced down my throat. "I would never do that!"</p><p>"I know you wouldn't. And..... I know you didn't." I could tell he didn't mean for it to come out questioning, or accusatory, or whatever the hell that tone is that came from his lips. But I still persist with my side. </p><p>"Damn right, I wouldn't!" The currently furious me stands up, somewhat surprising my husband. "I am not an adulterer!" I turn to face him, jabbing a finger into my chest. "And I'm gonna give that ass a piece of my mind!" I start walking towards the exit, ready to give that ass what he always asks for. </p><p>"Oh no, you don't!" I hear Danny stand up and, before I know it, he catches me by my waist just as I storm through the door. </p><p>"Let go of me!" I wiggle about in his embrace; I can see the family from the dinning room, all eyes on me. I thrash about some more, angry he is embarrassing me like this. I'm angrier still when he walks into his father's study. He pins me against the wall, my back to his front. Ordinarily, this position would be fun, but not now. Now, it's annoying and it's irritating.  </p><p>"Settle down," Danny commands, his tone soft, yet full of that unmistakable stern voice he uses when the kids are in deep trouble. </p><p>I am defiant, though; I thrash about still, trying to throw him off, to get his grip to loosen. Still, his hands press tightly against my upper arms, and I know there would be bruising. Again, not from the normal circumstances from such they come. </p><p>"Settle. Down." He nearly growls that time. </p><p>I think about it for a few seconds, and try one more time to thwart his advantage of me. He just has to be a top-notch cop and an ex-marine. If he was an account, I bet I could get him off me. But he's not, and his muscles- which are usually turning me on- are successfully pinning me to the wall. </p><p>He shoves his knee between my thighs, "Linda. Calm. Down."</p><p>"Why should I?! He should be getting the medieval treatment, not me!"  </p><p>His grip loosens slightly, "the medieval treatment?"</p><p>"Yes, dog Dammit!"</p><p>"Is that what you think this is?"</p><p>I scoff, "obviously." I bring my shoulder back, trying to get him off. </p><p>Danny sighs, "I've had just about enough of you today."</p><p>Did I mention I had been being a down right bitch all day long? And on a Sunday with family, to boot. </p><p>"So ignore me! Ugh!"</p><p>"I've been doing that all day. And where has that gotten me?" His grip tightens once again, "hm?"</p><p>When his fingers dig into my skin, I slowly realize exactly how big of a hole I've dug myself into. I want to answer with something snarky, but I can't think of anything. Until, "a one-way ticket to jail for abuse?"</p><p>He lets go of me, and for a split second, I think I can escape. That is, until he swiftly pulls my pants down, unbuttoning the button in the same motion. The red pants fall to my ankles, and I close my eyes. I haven't been spanked for being bad in a long time. The bedroom bad is a completely different thing- it has different connotations, different moods, different everything..... Leave it to the Reagans to believe in something as antiquated as domestic discipline. </p><p>Danny's hand makes contact with my ass, the smack not as loud as the previous two. Another one lands on the other side, and, foolishly, I start to think it won't be bad. Two more snacks to each cheek, and I'm convinced I can survive this one. </p><p>My eyes widen as my underwear gets pushed down. I decide to be an idiot again, and tightly press my thighs together to keep the panties from going to the floor. A loud smack lands to both my thighs, but I keep them pressed together. Three smacks to my left thigh, three smacks to my right thigh. </p><p>Danny forces them open, and pushes my panties down to the floor with my pants. In hindsight, I should've listened to him in the first place. He yanks me to the chair, and I'm suddenly staring at the floor, my pants and underwear at the base of the window. I close my eyes, waiting for the next smack, my cheeks flushed red. I only dare lift my head when I feel his hand doing something next to my bum. I can't see, and, with a huff of annoyance, I look back down again. </p><p>I let out a yelp when some foreign object makes contact with my thighs. He smacks my sit spot- smack, smack, smack. I realize it's his belt, and I wonder how I got myself into this situation. Suddenly, I feel even more embarrassed, like someone's watching. But I chalk that up to the fact that there are ten people in the other room. </p><p>Smack, smack. Smack smack smack echoes through the room as I feel my right butt cheek begin to burn. He repeats the smacks, with just as much force, on the other side. His leg is already over my legs, and I feel the tears well in my eyes. Five more hard slaps land on my bright red skin- two to my right ass cheek, two to my left. And the final big, hard, sickening slap to my sit spot. I've lots count how many times he had spanked me in that study. </p><p>"Get up," Danny's voice is no longer soft or friendly. </p><p>I swallow, standing up, my backside to the door. My face flushed deeply, as my pubic region is on display for him- usually a welcoming sight. The tears brim my eyes, daring to fall. I refuse to cry, though.</p><p>"I really don't appreciate your behavior. You're thirty years old, for Pete's sake! You shouldn't be acting like a three year old!"</p><p>I don't say anything, just cross my arms over my chest.</p><p>"Put your clothes on." He raises an eyebrow when I don't move. "Do you want me to parade you in there, and let everybody see what a bad girl you've been?"</p><p>Still, I don't answer. I just look away from him. </p><p>I can hear the shrug, "fine. You asked for it." He grabbed my hand, turning me around while he stands up. He starts pushing me towards the doorway, "hey, everyone!"</p><p>"No! No!" I yell, seeing the jackass sitting at the table, eyeing my womanhood. </p><p>"Never mind!" He steers me back in the room, and almost slams me onto the wooden table. </p><p>My backside immediately feels like it's on fire. I sigh, "I'm sorry; I don't know what got into me. Please don't show me to your family- our family- half naked. Please!"</p><p>Danny looks as though he is seriously considering doing just that, despite my pleas. I sometimes wonder about that man. "Fine. Since you asked nicely. But next time.... next time, it's gonna be a public spectacle. Understood?"</p><p>"Yes, yes. I understand."</p><p>"Good. Put your clothes on." He leaves me alone to contemplate my actions. I walk to the window, and I see my reflection. I pick up my clothes and turn around, trying to see the angry red marks on my backside and thighs. I rub my butt, letting some tears slip from my eyes. I get dressed, sit down at the dining room table, butt and thighs ablaze. Not to mention my cheeks, and I stare down into my food. No one asks what happened, or asks anything about it, which I'm glad for. </p><p>The rest of dinner goes by, and almost immediately we leave to go home. Part of my punishment, I guess. Once home, I put the kids to bed- Danny is still downstairs, checking locks and shit. I lie in bed on my stomach, my backside still stinging from earlier. I hear the door open, and I pretend to be asleep. </p><p>The bed dips, and Danny sighs. "You know I don't like doing that."</p><p>I chew my lip, "I know." </p><p>"So why make me do it?"</p><p>I feel tears, "I don't know."</p><p>"Linda.... you're a very pleasant woman. You're pretty and funny and just the right amount of crazy and very smart..... so why did you act like that? Why have random acts of stupidity?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"That's not an answer."</p><p>"Of course it's an answer!" I hate how my voice is thick with tears. </p><p>Danny places his hand on my shoulder, and I can almost see the sorrow in his eyes. He's not sorry for what he did, oh no. He's sorry that I'm hurting, for whatever reason, I'm not even sure of. </p><p>"It's just.... he gets me so mad. And some- sometimes, I lose touch with- with re- re-al- reality."</p><p>"Baby, I'm not mad that you got mad. Hell, I was mad, too. I'm disappointed because you acted out. You're supposed to be.... I don't know. Calm? Cool Collected? And mostly, you are. Just- when it comes to him-"</p><p>I unintentionally let out a large sob, clutching the sheets beneath my fists. <br/>I feel Danny stand up and move around the room. There's shuffling and a closing of a drawer, and then he's in front of me, hand back on my shoulder. "I need you to take your pants and underwear off for me."</p><p>I lift my head and look at him, images bleary through the tears. He holds up some aloe cream and smiled a little. </p><p>"You shouldn't have a sore ass when sitting in a hard, porcelain tub."</p><p>"What?" It's still early enough for a calming bath. Since the kids are little (Jack's only four and Sean's barely a year) it's only seven o'clock. </p><p>He pushes the air out of my face. "I'll admit, I was a little too rough on you. You really didn't deserve that many whacks. I still don't agree with your behavior, but.... it was kinda jerky of me for doing that many. So... you get a reward for dealing with my lapse in sanity." </p><p>I sniffle, propping myself up on elbows. "Really?" My voice is small and quiet. </p><p>"Really really." He helps me up, and for the first time since the spankings, I smile. We go to the en-suite where he's a complete and utter gentleman to me. If punishments meant bath time afterwards.... well. Maybe I'd have to act out a little more often.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. You’re Alive!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There’s a really bad nightmare in this one, so skip if you don’t want to read. No one’s forcing you to</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I turn over and look at the digital clock. It's two in the morning, and after that rowdy round of love making, I'm pretty hungry. Carefully as to not wake Linda, I slip from the bed and tiptoe down the stairs. Peering into the refrigerator, I scan my options for a late night/early morning snack. Seeing nothing appealing, or rather, nothing I want at the moment, I head over to the bread cabinet. In a matter of minutes, I have my peanut butter sandwich and a thermos of water. I now see why Linda likes keeping cold water by the bed. My throat feels like a dessert. <br/>As I head up the stairs, I see headlights shining into the house. The car motor shuts off, and the door slams. Quickly, I set my snack on the stairs and take the stairs two at a time. As soon as I'm in our room, I drop to my knees in front of my nightstand. I quickly, and quietly, get my gun and the handcuffs. The cuffs aren't the right ones, I know immediately, but they'll do in a pinch. </p><p>I don't leave the room until I hear shuffling and things breaking from downstairs. I walk along the wall to the staircase, stopping at the third step. I peek around the corner and see a prowler, now officially a burglar. He knocks over some dish towels and a few minor things like plastic cups, napkin holder, stuff like that. <br/>I quietly sneak into the kitchen, and I raise my gun. I don't say a word, not even breathe, as I wait for him to turn around. He turns, and looks surprised, gun in one hand, trash bag in the other. "Put the stuff back, go away, and I'll look past this." Because the last thing I want to do at two a.m. is to go to the station to fill out a report. I just want to go back to bed, and hold Linda. Oh, gosh, Linda. What if she wakes up and walks down here?</p><p>"Tempting. But I need this stuff."</p><p>"No, you don't. Look, if you're in a bind, I'm sure social services or someone like them will be willing to help."</p><p>"Mmmm, no. I take this, and you forget it."</p><p>"I can't do that." </p><p>His gun is still pointed at me as he looks around the room, as if trying to find a get-out-of-jail free card. His eyes land on a picture, and a devilish smirk crosses his face. "She's pretty. Who is she?" He shows me a picture of Linda. She's smiling widely and wearing that red, sorta peasant-y shirt with dark jeans. </p><p>"That's, uh.... no one."</p><p>"Oh, I think it's someone. Some one special."</p><p>"No, she's, uh.... friend. No one of consequence."</p><p>"Mmhmm...." In the blink of an eye, he shoots the cabinet with all the mugs. I slightly cringe as I hear them break. "I'll shoot your pretty little bitch if you don't let me go."</p><p>My blood boils; Linda's not a bitch! "I really don't want to shoot you, but I'm authorized to. You've got a gun on me, and you've fired a shot. I can legally shoot you. But I don't want to." Somewhere outside, there's a crash, grabbing my attention. </p><p>The burglar pushes past me, heading for the front door. I shoot, and just barely miss on purpose. He stops dead in his tracks. "I don't have to miss. I've got a clear shot of you."</p><p>He turns around, "oh really? If you shoot, Imma have fun with that bitch of yours. Where is she? Upstairs?"<br/>"She isn't anywhere!"</p><p>He nodded, "she's upstairs."</p><p>He heads towards the stairs; I can't let him have his sick, twisted fun with Linda! "Okay, okay!"</p><p>He turns around.</p><p>"What is it that you want?"</p><p>"Other than the silver wear? Let's see...." he taps his gun to his chin, and turns towards the stairs again. </p><p>I take that split second of distraction to lunge at him. I tackle him, and hit him, but he's quick. He hits me back, and the fist fight begins. </p><p>All I can think about is keeping Linda safe. She needs to stay upstairs. I know we joke that she can sleep through World War three, and right now, I really hope that's not a joke. I hope that she has the good sense to stay upstairs if she heard anything. She's a smart lady, but sometimes she thinks with her heart, not her brain. And if this is one of those times, she would be down here in a few minutes or so. </p><p>A hard punch lands on my eye, and I'm temporarily stunned. I hear him laugh, and see him walk back to the stairs. By the time I get to him, he's close to half way up. I grab his shirt, throwing to the ground. This time, he's stunned, and I take the opportunity to trap him. But he's good, maybe too good, and escapes my grasp. The punches and kicks lead us towards the kitchen once again. <br/>I have him; one more solid punch, and he'll be too powerless. Needless to say, we both look like a bunch of bruised fruit, and blood's trickling down our faces. But I don't care about the white dots in front of my eyes, or the ringing in my ears, or the pounding headache, or the blood. I care about Linda, and I'm so close to keeping her from such a horrific experience. </p><p>"Danny?"</p><p>Damn! I stop, and turn to look at Linda. "Go back up-"</p><p>But before I can finish the sentence, the Perp hits me, sending me backwards. Linda screams, and I hear her footsteps come closer. No! I wanna say, but no doesn't come out. Linda, run! doesn't come out either. The last thing I remember hearing was another scream from Linda, and then darkness fell.</p><p>**********</p><p>The next time I open my eyes, I feel sore. I shift only to realize I'm tied down to something. I try to focus my bleary vision, try to take in the surroundings. Well, my vision doesn't work yet, but I have the other four senses. </p><p>First, I feel around me as much as I can. It feels like I'm tied to a kitchen chair. I move my hand, and barely feel the band of the sweatpants I'm wearing. So I still have clothes, that's great. Just as my vision is starting to focus, I hear a scream, and I know it's Linda's. </p><p>"Linda!" Maybe that was a bad idea, cause now I hear footsteps. </p><p>"Danny!" I can just see her turn in the perp's grasp. "Let him go! Do what you want with me, just don't hurt him!"<br/>Fear is evident in her voice, but so is determination. </p><p>"Oh, I'll do what I want with you." The Perp says in a menacing tone. </p><p>My vision is fully functional now, and I watch as he licks Linda's cheek. My stomach lurches at the sight of him degrading her like that. </p><p>"Phil!"</p><p>Phil? Who's Phil?</p><p>Another goon saunters in, and takes the gun from the burglar. He points the cocked weapon at her head, and I see sheer fear in her beautiful blue eyes. "Can I have fun, too, Sam?"</p><p>Sam? Sam. I'm gonna kill Sam. </p><p>"Of course! Just hold the gun to her." Sam pulled something out of his pocket, a handkerchief, and walked towards me. "You're gonna watch this. But we can't have you talking."</p><p>I shake my head, trying to fight off the gag, but, of course, he put it on me. I loudly protest through the the gag. First, about how he committed a felony. Second, about kidnapping. Third, about assault on a police officer. Fourth, fifth, sixth, and every number after, about how he is about to degrade Linda, how he's forcing her to commit adultery. How he's stripping her of her dignity and her sanity. </p><p>I watch helplessly as they have their fun. She cries through the whole thing, and bawls when her body betrays her and orgasms. The pleasure waves look violent, but I doubt they are everything but pleasurable. They attack her over and over again, bruising her, assaulting her. I can't  watch them hurt her like that. So I start trying to break free. No gun is pointing at me or her, and they are ignoring my muffled protests. I look down, trying to think of how to escape the binds. I hear Linda gag, and I look up. Immediately, I wish I didn't. Sam's head is between her legs, and Phil is in her mouth. I have my head violently, trying to get the gag off. Finally, it falls loose and I yell at them. </p><p>"Stop! You sons of a bitch! Stop it!"</p><p>They ignore me until they cum; first Phil, then Sam, and finally Linda. The perps move off her, and Phil yanks her to stand. <br/>My face falls as I see what they've done to her. She's bruised almost all over, and she's bleeding from multiple places. My eyes follow the blood trickling down her legs. </p><p>"You bastards!" </p><p>Sam shrugs, "what the hell do we care if we're called names?" He grabs a gun off the table and points it at Linda's head. </p><p>"Yeah," Phil agrees, his hand between her legs. He's pumping too hard. I know Linda likes things rough, and I know how much she can take, but this is too much for her. Way too much. Even if it's not blatant assault, it's too much for her. She doesn't believe in threesomes, she orgasmed way too many times. Her limit has been something like ten, or close to that. But she had the pleasure waves too many times. She looks tired and beaten, and the blood trickling down her skin isn't helping her image. </p><p>"Take me instead." I offer, not wanting Linda to go through any more. </p><p>"Again, it's tempting, but I like my Barbie." Sam walks over to Linda, licks her cheek and gropes her breasts. Oh, her breasts. Her beautiful breasts are littered with angry purple marks. I can't tell, but I'm pretty sure there's little, red lines on them, barely dripping blood. </p><p>"No! Stop! She doesn't deserve that, you bastards!"</p><p>Linda cries out as she has yet another orgasm. She's suddenly limp in Phil's arms, and I want to wring both their necks. </p><p>"Hey!" Phil slaps her across the face with the gun, making her scream again. "Stand up!"</p><p>"Why you mo-"</p><p>"Sam, I don't think she can stand no more."</p><p>"Hm. Let go."</p><p>Phil lets go, and Linda falls to the floor. Her head hits the floor with a loud bang, and she cries again. She sobs and all I want to do is hold her and kiss her and kill those bastards. </p><p>"Pick her up."</p><p>Phil yanks her up by her hair and arm, waiting for the next instruction. </p><p>"Make her stand by herself. Or we'll simply kill her."</p><p>Linda tries to stand, and she succeeds, but she's wobbly. She needs someone or something to help her. She doesn't even try to cover herself, and my heart breaks once again. </p><p>"Let's switch." Sam turns to me, and smiles maliciously. I'm too pissed off to be sacred. I'm too worried for Linda to worry about me. Sam unites the ropes, and pulls me up. "If you struggle, she gets the ax."<br/>I don't say a word, just look at my poor wife. I try to show her love with my eyes, but her head's down. "Do whatever you want with me, you bastard. I don't care. Just let Linda go. Take her to the hospital. Just don't hurt her anymore."</p><p>Sam looks to Phil, pushes me half a foot away from Linda, and clicks his tongue twice. Phil nods and points the gun at Linda's temple. He stands back an arm's length away, and that's when it happens. My world comes crashing down. Blood and brain matter splatter me and the bastards as she falls to the floor. She doesn't even have time to scream.</p><p>"Linda! Linda! No!" </p><p>Suddenly, I'm in my room. It takes a few moments to realize what had happened. I swallow thickly, and close my eyes. </p><p>"Mm, did you say something?"</p><p>I look down, and there she is. Her face is half buried in her pillow.</p><p>"You're alive!"</p><p>She shifts, and looks at me. "Aren't I usually?"</p><p>Quickly, my lips are on hers. The kiss is hot and passionate, and she moans and shifts to her back, giving me better access. My body hovers over hers, and she wraps her arms around my neck. I rest my forehead on hers, sighing, closing my eyes. </p><p>Her hand touches my cheek, "Danny, what's wrong?"</p><p>I come back to reality. "Nothing." I roll off her, hoping she would leave it at that. Of course, I know better. </p><p>"No, nothing is when you drop chocolate cake onto the couch. That kiss.... that's something."</p><p>"No. Forget it, Linda. Go back to sleep. You need your eight hours."</p><p>I know her so well, I can tell she just frowned. </p><p>She shifts and lays mostly on top of me, hugging me close. She kisses my jaw bone, "what's thirty minutes? Talk to me."</p><p>Well, the whole nightmare spews out, and by the end, I'm crying. And I hate it. </p><p>"Oh, Danny." She hugs me tighter, kisses my chest, and doesn't say anything. She just lets me cry it out, offering some "Shhh"s and occasionally reminding me it was just a nightmare. </p><p>"I failed.... to protect you. I failed."</p><p>"But it was just a nightmare. I know you would never let anything like that happen to me."</p><p>"Even in my dreams..... I'm not doing my job."</p><p>Linda shook her head, "Danny, it was just a dream. If that really happened, you would've shot the bastard as soon as he walked to the stairs. It was just a bad, bad, bad dream."</p><p>I sigh, swallowing once again. I shake my head. She doesn't understand. </p><p>Linda props herself up on her hands, and looks straight at me. "Danny Reagan, it. Was. A. Dream. You've never failed to protect me from evil. Whether it be physical, or just a stupid, bad dream. And you won't start failing now. I know this. You always cuddle with me, and declare your love when I've had a bad dream. So," she lowered herself back to my chest, "I'm gonna lie here, and declare my love till your asleep."</p><p>And she does just that. I'm asleep before she's finished, but in the morning, I feel better. A little embarrassed I cried like a baby, but she tells me anyone would cry after a nightmare like that. </p><p>I can't say for sure, but I think we have a stronger bond now. And if hellish nightmares are what it takes to make our love stronger..... well, I can live with a few bear and there.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. You Can’t Do That!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I took in a shaky breath, hugging myself as I stood in the kitchen, the cool spring breeze blowing through the windows. I chew my lip, trying to collect my thoughts. I feel a strong pair of arms circle around me, and soft lips kiss that spot on my shoulder. For a moment, I let my eyes close. </p><p>He traces the tie-string of my top, twirling it between his fingers. "I know you're hurt, baby—"</p><p>"Hurt? Oh no. I am not hurt." I push away from him, needing the space. "My feelings aren't hurt. My heart isn't hurt. You didn't hurt me..... I am offended! You marched in there, with no gun, no backup, and no vest! You went in there, into a warehouse with gun-toting maniacs who were hell-bent on killing you! You marched in there, cape flying dramatically behind, not giving a damn about anything but yourself. I'm offended you think you can just do that! I'm offended you weren't thinking! I'm offended you didn't think about me. About Jack. About Sean..... I'm offended, because you don't care about us," I finish quietly, looking to the floor. </p><p>"Linda, that is-"</p><p>"I can't believe you did that! You- you can't just do that, Danny!"</p><p>"I know, and I'm sorry. But—"</p><p>"Sorry? You're sorry? Oh, well. That fixes that, doesn't it?" I almost smirk sadistically. "You can't sweet talk your way outta this one, oh no." I cross my arms, shaking my head. "Sorry doesn't fix anything. If you were really sorry, you wouldn't have done that. I can't believe you don't care."</p><p>"Linda, that is a lie. I do care."</p><p>"Oh yeah, Mr. Hero-Complex? Today, it was this. Last year? The bank. The year before that, drug cartel. The year before that, the car bomb. Before that, every single damn thing. 2004 to 2008, Fallujah. 2003, hospital roof. '02, fire. '01, the bridge. 2000, the convenient store. '99? The f****** plane! '98, another bomb. '97, robbery gone wrong. '96, Mungo. '95, joining the force! '91 to '94? Fallujah!"</p><p>"How do you-"</p><p>"Because I wrote them down, Danny! I wrote them down." I sniff, the tears finally slowly slipping from my eyes. I turn away, and look down. "It's all in my diary. Everything. The anger I felt, the worry, the fear...." I turn around quickly, "every damn year you do something stupider than the year before that! I can't lose you!" Quietly, with clenched fists, I whisper, "I can't." As quickly as I had gone to fear, I go back to anger. "And you don't seem to care about that! At all! You.... mean, pathetic," I walk up to him, and start jabbing his chest. "Egotistical, narcissistic, arrogant," with each adjective, I hit harder, with both fists. Each hit, my voice falters more. "Hero-complexed, asshole, son of a bitch!" When my words are drowned out by my sobs, I feel Danny hold me. </p><p>Danny feels me try to wiggle out of his grasp. "No, no. Linda, calm down..... you know I love you more than anything in this world, and I'd do anything to keep you safe. And that's why it seems like I do stupid things sometimes. I'm keeping you and the boys, and Erin, and Nicky, and Jamie, and Dad, and Pops all safe." He kisses my forehead as I desperately cling to him, my body shaking with sobs. </p><p>"I- I can- can't bre- breathe." I choke out between sobs. </p><p>Danny loosens his tight hug, and I shake my head. My breathing became very shallow and labored. Quickly, he pulls back, releasing me so I can have more air. "Okay, baby." He easily lifts me onto the counter, standing between my legs. "Just breathe. Breathe, baby. In.... and out."</p><p>I close my eyes and try to concentrate on my breathing. </p><p>"In."</p><p>One.... two... three.. four...</p><p>"And out."</p><p>After minutes of the same routine, and no change, Danny starts getting concerned, I can tell. "Linda, baby. Honey. Is anything hurting?"</p><p>I tap my chest, then my head. One hand grips his shoulder, holding onto my life line. I suddenly push him away, and jump down from the counter. I start pacing, wringing my hands together. </p><p>"Linda, please, sit still. Calm down. Do you feel dizzy?"</p><p>I only nod, clutching my chest with both hands. </p><p>"Words. I need words, sweetheart."</p><p>"Yes, and nauseous. And- and- and.... Danny, I- I can't...."</p><p>***********</p><p>Suddenly, I'm in the warm bed. I slowly opened my eyes, a headache present in the front of my head. I groan and shift, smelling the familiar cologne that Danny uses. I inhale, burying my face into the lee of his shoulder. </p><p>"Hey, are you okay?"</p><p>"Mmm,"  I whine, snuggling impossibly closer. </p><p>"What's wrong? What can I do?"</p><p>"Oh, I just have a headache, that's all.... Danny?"</p><p>"Hm?" He starts rubbing my back in small circles. </p><p>"What, uh..... weren't we just in the kitchen?"</p><p>"Uh..... yeah." He sounds almost scared. "Yeah, we were."</p><p>"So...."</p><p>"How'd we end up here?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"You, uh, you fainted. After a full-fledged panic attack."</p><p>"Oh..... why?"</p><p>"Linda, right now, I think it's best if you don't know. I'll tell you when I'm sure you're okay."</p><p>I smile softly, "but I am okay. What happened? I wanna know. Please."</p><p>He sighs, and holds me tighter. "I, uh.... I did something pretty stupid. And, rightfully, you got pissed. You threw yourself into a panic attack." Danny starts to shift, and rolls me onto my back. He presses his forehead against mine, "gosh, you scared me, baby."</p><p>I feel guilty about that. "I'm sorry, it's just.... you got me so mad—"</p><p>He cuts me off with a kiss. The kiss is so intense, and, despite doing this so many times, I don't relax into it. Not right away, anyways. It's not until he pins my arms above my head that I start to relax. </p><p>I think he can sense my slight rigidness, cause he caresses my face with his other hand. That hand moves to my throat, and he rests it there. He lightly chokes me- but not really. He just holds my throat and kisses me so intently, so forcefully, I can't remember who's air I'm breathing. </p><p>I'm able to wriggle my hands free of his grip, and they find his face. My left arm wraps around his neck and my right leg around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. </p><p>We're having sex, at two in the afternoon. No, it's not sex. It's making love. It's sweet and romantic, and I want it to last forever. His lips brush against my skin so perfectly, it's like the feeling of a thousand butterflies. Actually, it's like that whole song. He takes his time, makes sure every inch of me feels the love he has for me. <br/>It seems like slowly making love takes more out of me than the fast-paced sex we often have. Don't get me wrong, both are great. But now, since that night in the hotel, it's like we have to rediscover our bodies. And I kinda like that.</p><p>Danny will always do stupid things, I know that now. It's just apart of who he is. But maybe, after today, he'll see what it does to me, and he'll think about jumping head first into a messy situation. </p><p>"I love you." </p><p>"I love you, too, Danny."</p><p>The problem isn't exactly resolved, but he knows what his stupidity does to me now. And I think he's going to be more careful.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. You Did What?!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really hate Jack Boyle, okay? I do.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I study Linda; she seems.... off. I try to think of things that have recently happened that might have her pissed. I can't think of any. And every time I ask, she brushes me off. </p><p>"You okay, babe?" I look over to her as we drive home from church. </p><p>"Mhm." She answers, not looking at me. She's looking out the window, watching the city turn into cozy Staten Island. </p><p>"I'll be willing to listen if you want to talk."</p><p>She looks over at me and genuinely smiles. Her smile says she's fine, her eyes say she's holding something back. It's almost as if she's uncomfortable or something. "Thank you, but I-" </p><p>"You...?"</p><p>She shrugs. "Nothing."</p><p>I detect a note of secrecy in her tone. I think to myself what she could be hiding. She couldn't be... I furrow my brow and look over at her. "Hey, Linda?"</p><p>"Hm?"</p><p>"You wouldn't.... you're not pregnant, are you?"</p><p>She almost glares at me. "How can I be pregnant if I haven't had sex with you in three moths?"</p><p>Three months. Has it been that long? Gosh, I remember when it was almost everyday. In fact, until three months ago, it was almost every day.  I sigh angrily, "you just had to bring that up, didn't you?" I just had to be an ass, didn't I?</p><p>"It's not my fault somebody a-" she clamps up, quickly looking out the window. </p><p>"Somebody what?"</p><p>"Nothing."</p><p>"Linda," I say sternly. </p><p>"Can't you just- for once in your life- stop prying?!"</p><p>I pull into the drive way of our new home. It's furnished and painted, and everything is in there. Now all we need a children, which is a touchy subject. </p><p>"No, I don't think I can."</p><p>Linda only shakes her head and angrily gets out of the car. She slams the door shut, obviously annoyed. </p><p>"Linda!" It comes out as annoyed and exasperated. </p><p>When I walk into the house, I hear a door slamming. I can only assume it's the bedroom door. I decide to let her have her peace; we're in different rooms of the house until we need to leave in order to get to Sunday dinner on time. </p><p>***********</p><p>Linda is prickly all throughout the car ride, to say the least. She doesn't talk or laugh or do any of her regular readings. I want to know what's going on with her. <br/>Before we get out of the car, I try one more time. "Ready to tell me what's got you so bothered?"</p><p>"I'm not bothered," Linda says angrily. </p><p>"Fine. Be a bitch to me all you want, but be nice to the family, huh?"</p><p>"I am not a bitch!" </p><p>I hate that I see tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just wish you would tell me what's wrong." Before she can speak, I say, "I know, I know. 'Nothing's bothering me'." I shake my head and get out of the car. </p><p>We haven't even been in the house ten minutes when my Mom comes up to me and asks, "what's with you and Linda?"</p><p>"I don't know. And that's the truth. She's changed. She was doing well for a while, a good while. But now?" I sigh and shake my head. </p><p>Mom nods sympathetically. "It's hard loosing a child."</p><p>I nod. About a year ago, Linda had a miscarriage. It was our first baby, and we had barely been married for a year. It was a tough time, not only did she lose the baby, but she temporarily lost her memory. I'll never forget what she said to the doc when I told her we were man and wife. She said, and I quote, 'can I pick 'em of what, Doc?'.</p><p>"What's happening with her? I've noticed a lost interest in food."</p><p>I shrug, "I don't know, Mom. But don't worry about it. She'll talk when she's ready."</p><p>"But, Danny, that's the thing. She's always ready to talk."</p><p>I raise an eyebrow. </p><p>"What do you think she and I talk about? I know a lot about that girl, because she's willing to open up. But now? Now she seems closed off."</p><p>I nod in agreement. "I don't know, Ma." I shrug and walk towards the kitchen; part of me wishes I hadn't, and part of me is so glad I did. </p><p>I observe Linda standing a few feet from Jackass, clutching her sweater to her chest. The shoulder on her left side is pulled down, showcasing her milky shoulder. I briefly wonder where her dress strap is before I remember it's a strapless. </p><p>"Ask me why I hate you," she sneers, both unaware of my presence. "Ask me why!" She almost demands. </p><p>Jack, for once, doesn't come up with a snappy, snarky answer. He just stays silent. </p><p>"Because you're a rapist. How dare you!" Her voice falters, but she presses on. "How dare you try to feel me up when my husband's in the other room? How dare you!" There's a definite crack in her voice as she backs up further. </p><p>"He'll never know. He doesn't know what we did in college, now does he?"</p><p>Man, I want to jump in there and punch his lights out. But I want to see where this college think is going. </p><p>"You mean when you raped me?"</p><p>"I didn't rape you, Lins. I just went down on you."</p><p>"You what?!" I couldn't help myself. I see Linda jump almost to the roof. "You did what?!" I get in Jack's face. </p><p>He smiles smugly, "she was practically begging for it."</p><p>I look to Linda, who is seething with anger. She walks up to us, gently pushes me out of the way, and punches Jackass squarely in the nose. </p><p>He stumbles a bit, while I can't hide my satisfied grin. </p><p>"Asking for it?!" She almost yells, face red with anger. "I didn't do dick! You dragged me to the garden shed, held me against my will, and then raped me! I don't care if it was your dick, or your finger, or tongue, or nose, or whatever else! If I don't say yes, it's rape!" She smacks him across the cheek, storming out to the backyard. </p><p>"You son of a bitch," I punch him hard in the nose, catching him off guard. He stumbles into the island as I storm out of the kitchen, slamming the door to the outside world. </p><p>I immediately see Linda kneeling in the grass, head in her hands, sobbing loudly. I sit next to her, "is that why you've been weird? Cause he's assaulting you?"</p><p>She nods and immediately curls into me. Sobbing on my shoulder, she clutches my shirt. </p><p>I hug her tightly, anger seething inside me. Finally, my concern for her wins over my anger towards the scum bag. I rub her back, kissing her head. My fingers slide to her chin, tipping it upwards. Her eyes are blurry with tears, and the vibrant blue irises are dull with sadness. </p><p>Linda takes in a shuttering breath and nearly slams her lips on mine. She kisses me feverishly through her tears. Her tongue dominantly explores my mouth which she knows so well. Her tears mingle with our saliva, they're warm and salty. Her hands roam my chest, shoulders, and back as she shifts to straddle my lap. Her hands move further down my stomach, and her lips find my neck. </p><p>I really wonder about her sometimes. She'll go from crying to desperately needing a shag. But, hey, I ain't complain'. I inhale as she undoes my belt, pops the button from the whole, and brings the zipper down all with one hand. </p><p>Before she can go further, Joe calls out, "dinner time!"</p><p>"We're coming," I tell him. I wipe the tears from Linda's cheeks, "we'll talk more at home, okay?"</p><p>She sniffs and nods, reluctantly standing up. </p><p>*************</p><p>The whole sordid story comes out that night while we lie in bed. She sobs her way through it, and cries herself to sleep. <br/>I hold her tightly, vowing to make life a living hell for one ass named Jack Boyle.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. I Can Top That</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You feelin' okay, Lins? Ya look a little pale." My best friend, Brie, asks as we walk out of out psych class together. </p><p>"I've just been feeling really sick for a few weeks. It's really weird," I hold the door open for her, and I shoulder through it behind her. "For three days straight, I feel really awful. Then I feel fine again. It's weird."</p><p>"Maybe it's something you're eating? Maybe you've developed a gluten or yeast intolerance."</p><p>I shrug, "maybe. All I know is I wish it would stop. Danny's getting really worried, especially since I'm dizzy most of the time. He doesn't want me falling down the stairs the middle of the night, or in the shower."</p><p>"I can imagine..." she pauses before she asks, "so how goes married life?"</p><p>"Oh, Brie, it's fantastic!" I smile widely; Danny and I got married on September 23 last year. It was a beautiful fall wedding, and everyone was smiles for miles. "We still haven't found an apartment. We have our eyes set on one, but the land lady won't lease it yet. We're going to move in after I graduate. That is, if she'll let us."</p><p>"Only three more months, then. That's exciting, especially for Mary and Frank."</p><p>I laugh aloud, "especially! I don't think they appreciate being woken up by two recently married people experimenting with their sex life!"</p><p>"My parents would've kicked me out by now."</p><p>"My would've too. But not Danny's. They're like super heroes or something." We stop on the corner of the street, waiting for my ride. Now that I'm married, I don't share a room with Brie anymore. But we're still the best of friends. I sway a little, my brain getting cloud. </p><p>"Whoa!" Brie latches onto my arm, juggling her books. "Easy there, Titanic!" More seriously, she wonders, "are you okay?"</p><p>"No, I-" I want to sit down, I need to sit down. "I need to sit."</p><p>"Absolutely." Brie leads me to the benches outside of the hospital. Wednesdays are clinic days, and usually she and I grab a burger or something quick afterwards. This works out, because Danny usually works late on Wednesdays, so I wouldn't be seeing him anyway. But he's not working late this Wednesday, because he is suspended. He called out his boss in front of everyone, and got a week's suspension. </p><p>Brie rubs my shoulder, "who's coming to get you?"</p><p>"Danny...... I know," I try to sit straight and look normal. "He won't like this." As I adjust myself, our old, beaten up car pulls in front of the bench. </p><p>The window rolls down and Danny's smiling at us. "Ladies." He leans over and pushes the door open for me. </p><p>"Hi, Danny!" Brie smiles and waves, standing up. She bends over, "see ya tomorrow, Linda?" I could tell it shouldn't have come out question-like. </p><p>"If all goes to plan." I figured saying if I don't get sick wouldn't go over well with my husband. I smile, "bye."</p><p>"Bye!" Brie waves as we drive back to our temporary home. </p><p>"If all goes to plan, huh?"</p><p>"What? Oh, um..." I sigh and dig in my bag for my thermos with ice cold water. "I was feeling dizzy and nauseous again today, but I'm okay."</p><p>"Have you made an appointment with your doctor yet?" Danny looks at me before taking the turn. </p><p>"No, but I'm fine! Really, I am!" Because the last thing I want is needles sticking in me. </p><p>"Lin-"</p><p>"I'm okay, Danny. I promise. Brie thinks it's something I eat. Like gluten or yeast."</p><p>I know he didn't like that answer. "Okay, but promise me something?" He grabs my hand as we drive along. </p><p>My heart starts pounding. "Yes?"</p><p>"If you get sick tonight, call the doc first thing in the morning."</p><p>I nod, "okay."</p><p>Danny smiles a little. He cocks his head towards me, "I don't like you being sick. You're miserable and tired, and I always feel so helpless cause I can't help."</p><p>I nod again, suddenly feeling guilty. "I promise I'll call if I get sick."</p><p>**************</p><p>I groan as I lean over the toilet that night. My head aches, my stomach aches, my muscles ache. I throw up Mary's lovely dinner of chicken tetrazzini and mashed potatoes, along with the vanilla ice cream I had for dessert. I heave again, and feel a hand on my shoulder, the other one holding my short hair away from my face. Once all my food is flushed down the toilet, I sit back on my knees and into Danny's embrace. </p><p>Despite the fact he could get sick, he kisses my cheek, still rubbing my shoulders. "Will you-"</p><p>"Call the doc tomorrow." I nod weakly, closing my eyes. He helps me try to stand, but I wobble. My knees give out, my head spins. He picks me up bridal style and carries me back to his (our temporary) old room. Danny lays me on the bed and pulls the covers around me. He kisses my cheek and bends to get my thermos off the ground. He looks inside and sees its empty. Kissing my forehead, he says, "I'll get you a refill."</p><p>Pathetically I answer, "thank you."</p><p>"Anything for you." He kissed my cheek again and walks out to retrieve my cold water. </p><p>*************</p><p>I sit in the doctor's office, studying the posters of the ear and of the nasal passages and sinuses. I remember those posters always fascinating and grossing me out at the same time when I was little. The human body truly is amazing. </p><p>A knock interrupts my thoughts. "Come in."</p><p>"Linda, what's the problem?"</p><p>"I've been feeling dizzy and nauseous for a while now. Since.... the middle of January. I classified it as a nasty stomach bug, but now it's almost Valentines Day, and I'm not so sure anymore. It's been going on for almost a month, so it can't be a bug."</p><p>"Any other feelings other than nausea and dizziness?"</p><p>"Yes. I'm feeling sleepy a lot of the time, despite getting my full eight hours." Yes, I'm one of those nuts. I really don't feel good if I get less than six, and even then it's iffy. "Uh... I keep having cramps, but every time I suspect my period's coming, it doesn't."</p><p>"Speaking of, when are you due?"</p><p>"Any day now." Ever since I stopped taking my hormone pills (which is birth control, but I refuse to call it that cause I'm not or wasn't preventing birth), my period went back to it's normal, inaccurate schedule. It used to sneak up on me, but then I would always cramp the night before, and that was my signal. </p><p>She writes it down, "I want to take a blood test, and a strep test."</p><p>Stupidly, I say, "but I don't have strep."</p><p>She chuckles, "right. But I'm going to use the same method."</p><p>I nod, feeling stupid. In less than ten minutes, the tests are done. </p><p>"I don't think this is anything serious, but we'll call you and let you know when the test results come in."</p><p>"Okay, thank you."</p><p>************</p><p>Days later, I go back to the doctor's office. Danny is now working again, and sometimes it's a double shift (cause his sergeant hates him), so I have to take public transportation which I hate. </p><p>The doctor, knowing that I'm a nurse, simply hands me the papers. </p><p>I look over them, very surprised at the results. "No." I state firmly, "no. I-I can't be- not- not now!" I start to ramble, "I- I haven't graduated yet! I have three more months, and- and we don't have the apartment set up, and we- we're not ready!" I ramble on and on, not thinking about what I'm saying. I feel the doctor's hands on my shoulders, and my eyes close. I breathe deeply, the tears still falling. </p><p>"Aren't you happy you're going to be parents?"</p><p>"Of course I'm happy!" I wipe the tears away with the tissues she just handed me. "I'm thrilled! But we're not ready! We're so young; I was thinkin' I'd be here in three years, when I'm fully done with school and have a steady job and an apartment!" After moments of silence, I sniff and look at the results again. "Wow, I'm gonna be a Mom!"</p><p>**************</p><p>"Ooh," I hear Danny as he surveys the kitchen table. I watch him from the kitchen, knowing his unaware of my presence. He runs his finger along the edge of the table, looking at the two candles, and food set neatly on the table. He turns and smiles at me. "And What is this for?" He kisses my cheek. </p><p>"Why, honey. Don't you know what day it is?"</p><p>"Uh..... Thursday?"</p><p>I hold my hand out for a second, and shrug. I should've suspected that answer. He doesn't pay attention to dates. "It's the Fourteenth. Of February. Valentine's Day."</p><p>"Oh, yeah. So, uh, this is my present?" He gestures to the table. </p><p>"The first half," I smile and kiss his lips seductively, leading him to believe I mean sex. I pull away, "so. Shall we eat?"</p><p>We sit and bless the food, and we talk about our days. He knows that my sickness is getting better, since I told him I just need to pop some vitamins and an anti-nausea pill. And having a husband who doesn't know anything in the medical field is a blessing in this time, since he doesn't bother reading bottles. </p><p>Halfway through the meal, the door bell rings. "I'll get it," Danny wipes his mouth and stands up. He comes back with a basket of roses, lilies, irises, and chrysanthemums.  He places it next to me on the table. </p><p>"Oh, Danny! They're beautiful!" I gasp when he lets go of the handle. Dangling from it is two sets of keys and a diamond ring. Surprisingly, I take one set of keys off the baste first. Turning it over in my hand, I question, "new car?"</p><p>"No, unfortunately. But it is to a nice little place with a small, very covered balcony."</p><p>I squeak, "we got the apartment?"</p><p>"We've got the apartment!"</p><p>I hug him excitedly, still holding the key. "Wait, what's the other key for?"</p><p>"That's my set."</p><p>"Oh, right. Duh." I very lightly hit the side of my head smiling. "What's this ring then?" I untie the lacy ribbon. The gold ring had an intricate rose detail with a very small diamond in the middle. </p><p>Danny shrugs, "for some reason, I thought it'd go nice with your silver flower ring. Y'know, the one you got at the retirement home thrift shop for two bucks?"</p><p>"Oh yeah!" I smile widely. Best purchase of a 200 plus dollar ring I had ever made. "Wow, that's super sweet of you! Hold up." </p><p>I jump from my seat and run into our bedroom. Quickly I find the silver ring and run back downstairs, handing it and the gold one to Danny. </p><p>"Erin says you can stack 'em?"</p><p>"Yup! Gold one first." He slides the gold rose onto my right ring finger, then positions the silver one. After we kiss, he sits back down across from me. "So, what's the second part of my gift? Betcha can't top me."</p><p>It had been a good natured running game of ours about who got the other one the better gift. We always get gifts in the same price range, so (unless I'm on my period- or now, pregnant) there are no tears shed. </p><p>“Oh, I so can top that."</p><p>"Okay. Then what's my gift?"</p><p>I take my engagement ring off and hand it to him. "See the diamond?"</p><p>"Yeah. So?" The diamond is a two carat diamond, which is a little larger than a pea. "What about it?" He examines it, as if I hid something inside. </p><p>I sigh, collecting my emotions. "That's about the size of your yet to be born baby."</p><p>"My y.... my What?" Danny looks up, still holding the ring. </p><p>"Your yet to be born baby."</p><p>"You're..." he smiles widely, while chuckling. "You're pregnant?"</p><p>I grin ear to ear and nod, the happy tears coming fast. </p><p>"Oh, honey!" We both stand and hug each other tightly, happy tears slipping down our cheeks. </p><p>After a while, Danny slips my ring back on. "So- so the, the nausea and dizziness and feeling awful... that was just morning sickness?"</p><p>"We're stupid, aren't we? Especially me, a nurse. But we're gonna be parents!"<br/>We kiss and hug and cry some more, so so so incredibly happy. Little did we know that would only last for five more months.</p>
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